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Sault se Marie to Oshkosh. The last 312 miles.
Oshkosh, WI |
Day score 100. Ok, back at the airport and handing the keys back, I asked if they had closed my flight plan for me. They said that ‘yes it had been done with an automated system when I landed,’ phew… Right, Jees, I’ve got now only 3:15 hours to get to Oshkosh before it closes for the airshow and it’s a 3:00 hour flight. Leaving the airport was somewhat easier, now I knew what it was called and the circuit pattern, but the engine had hardly cooled down in the sweltering heat. I climbed out but at 2,000ft the warning light was flashing and that was at the raised level I had set to stop it flashing… I could see some cumulous cloud caps ahead. It was quite windy and I thought that thermal streeting might be occurring. If I could find them I could raise Itzy higher into cooler air using thermals rather than the engine. It worked well and soon I was up at 4,000ft and able to lower the nose for greater cooling speed and still not loose height with the engine on a minimal cruise setting. The thermals died out over Lake Michigan and so did the tail wind as I turned south to follow the shore line. I could still use the Canadian map for a while as it extended into America, but soon I was off the end of that. So it was time to review my drawn map and put some places like Rippon, the start of the VFR route into Oshkosh that every one takes, in to the GPS. I read again all 15 pages of the Oshkosh NOTAM that I printed out in Iceland. I had hardly looked at them in case it brought bad luck. Well now I needed them and it felt good… Music, put music on to calm the nerves. I could hardly see the shoreline for the murk. Still 150 miles to go. I tuned into Oshkosh’s Airfield Traffic Information Service ‘ATIS’ on 125.90 and turned the squelch right down on the radio. “Page 8 and 12 of the NO… This is Oshkosh inf at tim” He said ‘Oshkosh info’. For the last 42 days I’ve been trying to get there, trying my best and now I can hear Oshkosh… I listened to the signal getting stronger for the next half an hour. I even recorded it on my big video camera which had an audio input. Look at the time… Must go faster… look at the temps… Can’t go faster… There was cloud on route that I went below, then coastal fog crept in off Lake Michigan, but no way, none of you are stopping me this time… You’ve tried all the time on virtually every flight, but not this time. It was too early to turn in land but I had little choice. Dam, there was a big airport there, better go low and south of it and hope nothing big comes along. Ok, way to the south of the big airport I was now on track for Rippon, but quite low now. I tried the thermaling technique again to gain more height. Rippon was 50 miles away and 35 minutes at 90 knots which is all I could do in fear of cooking the oil. Well it was cooked already, but it just had to get me another 30 mins, that’s all. They oil pressure was down at 45 instead of 60 psi. I changed to Fisk approach frequency 120.7 approaching Rippon as requested by the NOTAM and there was a picture of a water tower I was supposed to be able to see to recognise the town. I heard one aircraft turning to the tower frequency and then silence. On arrivals day on Monday, over 5,000 aircraft arrive at Oshkosh this way. It’s the busiest airfield in the world, by a very long way. The radio is none stop, but I could hear nothing. You are supposed to just monitor and say nothing, they have spotters on the ground who call up to you and ask you to rock your wings if they’ve got you right, There is the water tower, there is Rippon, ok find in the murk the rail tracks to follow, well there they are… The rail tracks lead to Fisk. 10 minutes engine, just do me 10 more minutes, I promise a new cooler and oil, just 10 more minutes. Speed should be 90 knots at this location, well it’s all I can do. The NOTAM mentions keeping line astern with half a mile between aircraft, but I’m on my own up here, I’ve been very alone up here at times. Just the flight to Hurkadalshmela in Iceland and aircraft at Sanderson, never saw them though really. My head is full of memories, friends I’ve made, the unfairness of the journey. I pick up Fredy my lucky mascot and tears fall on his head because without him, I wouldn’t be here surely. I’m over Fisk but no one is looking up anymore, why would they, who in their right mind turns up at the biggest airshow in the world 5 minutes before it’s closed… No one was going to see or hear me so I called, “Fisk approach G-BYLP overhead” “Aircraft calling Fisk say again?” “G-BYLP overhead Fisk” “Oh yeah, little white aircraft rock you wings!” I did. “Good rock, thank you, ok runway in use 36 left hand. Contact tower on 126.60” “Roger.” Oh wow, there it is coming out of the murk, the most amazing sight! There are a lot of aircraft down there. I had the video camera rolling, I was going to make a big speech. I failed. Could hardly breathe, let alone talk. You see the last 42 days has taken years of my life to achieve, about 10 years. I can’t be a Formula 1 driver, an Olympic swimmer, rower or cyclist. But I can do this. You may think it easy. But have a go at building your own plane and flying to Oshkosh, then add my luck into the equation and, well I think it’s hard. But this approach to runway 36 that I had just been cleared to land on and at the yellow dot, indicating half way down the runway, well this approach is my 100 meter Olympic final, my last lap of Monaco or Silverstone, chricky, why not my small step for mankind. It’s probably the best thing I’ll do. And did I land on the yellow dot? You bet I did… (That’s probably the most sentimental sentence I’ve ever written) Anyway, made it – made it – made it – made it!!! Well done plane, well done engine! “Lima Papa vacate as soon as possible left” “Wilco.” I taxied across the grass and on to taxiway Papa. I lifted the canopy and held up myHBC paper sign to tell the marshals that I want to be directed to ‘Home Built Camping’. Not that Itzy was built at home, but I know what they mean. I was marshalled on and on towards ‘Papa 1’ and the ‘Home Built’ area. But then they turned me around and headed me back up towards ‘Papa 2’. There was some confusion amongst them and a John Deere Agrocat pulled up along side me and I stopped. A lady approached and asked “Hi there, where have you come from?” “England” I said, hoping she would believe me. “No way!” See I knew she wouldn’t. There was some discussion between marshalers and then she came back and said, “We are going to park you up near the Brown Arch. Would you like that?” I pretended not to know where that is, but I knew and humbly said, “Yes that would be nice…” For those who don’t know, parking near the Brown Arch is reserved for famous aircraft, well not famous aircraft, but I’ve seen so many pictures of planes near the Brown Arch, like famous Earthrounder Jon Johansons ‘RV4’, ‘Voyager 1’ that flew around the world none stop and on and on. There was a convoy of scooters and golf carts and Agrocats following behind as I was marshalled in with about 200,000 spectators all wondering the same thing, like “Who is that and where did he come from and why all the fuss?” I pulled up in front of the arch well just to one side, lets not get carried away, there were other aircraft there, but I checked Itzy’s engine magnetos again, all present and correct, and switched them both off. When taxing and manoeuvring you have to be in control, with the mags switch ed off and the propeller stationary, you don’t and I wasn’t. I had dared to dream this, dared so often just in case I never made it. I mean I never expected to be hurt, but I could have lost the plane at any time and almost did three times. Now it was not a dream. This was real, but still too much for my fried brain. I just wanted to be on my own a while to gather and preserve this moment and my thoughts, so I stayed in the cockpit with my head in my hands sobbing like a baby. But I could do more of this later, there were people waiting for me to get out. Valerie greeted me again properly, she was in control of this section of the flight line. She asked if there was anything I needed, food water. I was given sandwiches and a drink. I extracted myself from my immersion suit. Took off my thermals and put on some shorts and a fresh T’shirt. Valerie said to grab anything I needed from the plane because we had to leave this area for the start of the airshow and they were sort of waiting for us. I grabbed my phone and video camera and was escorted to the signing in tent. I met Alan, he took me through signing in. He asked me if I was a member of the EAA, I wasn’t but thought I better join. I was given bags of merchandise and a commemorative glass tanker and then went to mingle with the crowd. I’m not sure if you want to hear or read more, I mean there, I made it… That’s not the end of the story, not by a long way… The rest of the day was pretty good too. But that’s where I’m going to take a break… Ok, I’ve had a thought about this diary. I’ll write up to the end of the show because I’ve met some amazing people here myself, sort of took the emphasis of me me me all the time. So the airshow started with ‘Shaun ‘D’ Tucker’ and his Oracle Pitts. Pretty impressive and rolled on with countless war birds, 10 – 20 Harvard T6’s and Bob Cats and B17’s and… The Ospray, Vertical take off tilt rotor craft did a good display. But basically it was just a blur of aircraft for 4 hours. Four jets took off from the Cold War period, a Russian Mig chased by three American jets, one being a Saab, I didn’t recognise the others. There had been a team of American pilots flying Russian Yak 52’s earlier. The commentator came out with the comment, that “You may wonder why we are able to fly these Russian aircraft and leave the Russian star on the planes, well that’s because we won the Cold War and these aircraft are now ours!!!” America won the cold war??? I thought that no one won it and it sort of just fizzled out? Next came some of the middle weight bombers. There was a B17 some where, but as the Liberator flew low over the runway a line of pyrotechnics detonated and made everyone jump and the woop with joy as all the windows shook in their frames. Again, every time a plane flew low along the runway, another chest moving explosion would go off. Awesome! Anyway, the finally had arrived, being the ‘Thunderbirds!’ Not the ones on string but F16’s of the United States Air Force. Six of them took off one at a time and began to put on a polished display. Everyone around was waiting for this and I’d heard a lot about them since arriving, so I suppose my expectations were built up too high. At times, the music was more dramatical than the performance. The polished voice of the Air Force’s commentator, building up every manoeuvre they did to be so difficult that only these professional Air Force Pilots with all their thousands of hours of immaculate, dedicated training could do. It was just a bit too theatrical for me or too American. There were big gaps where nothing was happening but loud music. But the crowd loved it and whooped and cheered and clapped every time God Blessed America and shouted out ‘Oh yeah!’, every time that it was explained that this type of flying and the aircraft flown went to show that America had the most formidable, capable and best Air Force in the world, to keep them safe. Safe from what? The crowd applauded as one by one the planes landed and the music came to a pleasant end to complete the airshow. As I returned to Itzy, the plane was now surrounded by the crowd. People had moved forward again to the normal flight line, it had only been moved back for the Thunderbird’s display. I dare go back to the plane. I just stood there watching it being adorned by the crowds of people. It deserved it really. It had got me here! I just flew and moved a stick around occasionally. It was like two separate achievements. I could hide in the crowd. Itzy couldn’t. I wanted to phone my parents and tell them I had arrived, but I couldn’t. I knew I would never keep it together yet, if ever… Eventually the attention Itzy was getting died down and I could walk back out to him, her, it? But as soon as I opened the canopy, I could see people approaching. I had to talk about building the plane and the journey and what to do if they wanted to build one, and people who were building KR2’s and what they were like to fly. It was little hardship and the least I could do. Valerie had insisted I tied the aircraft down and returned to ask how I enjoyed the show and to make sure I tied Itzy down. Stakes were supplied and I hammered them into the ground and tied Itzy down. I couldn’t understand why as there was no wind, but I would do anything for Valerie’s piece of mind. She had been so kind. Three people had stood at the back all the time and only really came to say hello when I had chance to step back. There names were Pablo, Carlos and Alberto. Pablo lived in Australia and worked for Qantas as an engineer but was born in Argentina, Carlos and Alberto quite a bit older and his long time friends on a once in a life time trip to Oshkosh from Argentina and Pablo was looked after them. They had met up in Chicago and hired a motorhome to drive up here in. They were all aviation nuts like me and they’d had a great time here and had been here all week. I asked them lots of questions about what I had missed and Pablo filled me in. He had always liked KR2’s all his life but said he had only seen one other all week. The KR2 is an American design and I expected to see about 10 here. So Pablo was pleased to see another and one that had flown in from England was just a bonus. The night airshow began with the onset of dark. Aircraft, helicopters the Osprey, some with lights, some with Pyrotechnics, some with both. Two high powered Aerobatic planes took off and pretended to dive bomb the airfield. Ever time they swhooshed low a huge explosion went off, sending big balls of fire and then clouds of black smoke into the air for them to dive through with the aircraft. The Americans like big explosions as for the finally of their display a 500 meter line of explosions was let off. Wow… That’s a lot of smoke. Four Harvard’s doing close formation with spoke and flares a plenty then flew by. In fact there was so much smoke and little wind, it must not have been easy for them to see and stay focussed. The next aircraft was a helicopter, spinning around and around firing off flares and fireworks. Finally it was too dark to see what it was, but some twin radial engined aircraft, with so many neon lights on board it looked like a flying saucer, did a very good display with fire and smoke trailing all the time. With it too dark to be safe, it was time for a fireworks display to music and blessing America again. But quite beautiful it all seemed and a fitting end to the day of days. Itzy was lit up as the fireworks reflected in the shiny paintwork. I tried to take artistic pictures but I think I failed. With the final barrage of explosions, it was over and the commentator which everyone goodnight. Pablo asked where I was staying. I would have put the tent by the plane, but as Itzy would be surrounded again by tomorrow’s cr owd, it didn’t seem wise. Pablo sincerely stated that they had room in their motor home and it would be a sort of honour if I stayed with them. The honour was all mine. Valerie retuned with the John Deer Gator and we all climbed on board and she gave us a lift the several miles through the camp site and crowd. I had no idea this place was so big… There were 200,000 people staying on site, it reminded me of Glastonbury. We eventually arrived on Lindberg and 30th by the motor home and thanked Valerie again for a wonderful reception and I let on that I knew about the Brown Arch. She was delighted and wished us goodnight to set off back into the crowd. Glad of the lift we entered the motor home. Carlos cooked some potatoes and meet, unexpected but welcomed as I had hardly eaten today. Many more questions answered for me to fill in what I had misted. Pablo told me that Alberto had built a Tiger Moth in Argentina. No one just builds a Tiger Moth from drawings, making every single bit, they normally rebuild a wrecked aircraft and go from there. But no, he had built and created every last part, apart from the engine and wheels of course. They had been having plenty of problems with the engine and wanted to know if I knew about them. I did, but my friend Ben was a guru on them, having dealt with the Gypsie engines all his life. I would help them more to overcome the engine problems. But Pablo could see I was bushed and soon everyone went their different ways in this massive motorhome and the table we were sitting at was made into my bed. Thought for the day: We made it!!! I didn’t care if it was the last but one day, I could fill in with thoughts what it would have been like, the days I had missed. But to just be part of it, if only a little part, that was enough…
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